


The Fine Line of Being Okay

by bou_carey



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is too drunk to think clearly, Alcoholics Anonymous, Alya Césaire Ships It, Baker Marinette, College Drop outs, Community Center, DJ Nino, Exasperated Marinette Dupain-Cheng, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gabriel is still a bad father but he cares kinda, Getting to Know Each Other, Healing, Humor, I hate tagging, Idiots in Love, Laugh at my jokes Please?, Marinette doesn't really like her boring life, Mistaken Identity, Nino Lahiffe Ships It, Oblivious Adrien Agreste and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Or I try to make it funny, Or at least she wants to be, Or maybe he only thinks clearly when he's drunk?, Protective Gabriel, She just wants to be happy, They're just normal people, Ugh, We Are All Alya Césaire, Writer Alya, fashion designer marinette, give it a read please and thank you I'll love you forever, its not sad I promise, model adrien, non-superhero, protetive marinette, volunteering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-24 00:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bou_carey/pseuds/bou_carey
Summary: The one where Adrien gets in real big trouble, Marinette is just trying to help like always, and Alcoholics Anonymous really is anonymous.Or, Adrien may have a slight problem with drinking (read depression) and Marinette just so happens to volunteer at the local community center where a certain AA meeting takes place on Friday nights at 9. Alya is just trying to open everyone's eyes to reality and Nino is hoping that the lyrics "just dance it'll be okay" are actually true because his best friend is messed up and long nights at the club may be helping his Dj career but they definitely aren't helping Adrien. And somehow meeting in masks to talk about substance abuse brings all these cinnamon rolls together.(It's not actually a super depressing fic, it's more about healing and awkward jokes between spazzy adorable characters tbh)





	1. It has to begin somewhere -1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of FICTION. I obviously don't own the characters or anything like that, but the story and the plot are my own ideas so please at least ask before using and if you want to write anything based off it or whatever just message me the link (because I wanna read it) and credit the original story :) With all that boring crap out of the way, sorry this 1st chapter is short, promise the rest will be longer! Loads of love!  
> -Bou

FASHION'S FAVORITE PLAYBOY EXITS CLUB WASTED AGAIN AND WITH A NEW GIRL: WILL ADRIEN AGRESTE EVER CHANGE?  
By: Rachelle Wales, DailyParis  
"Adrien Agreste, Paris' own pain of a young supermodel takes to the town at known friend, DJ Bubblers gig in the newly built "24/7" nightclub in the downtown district. A golden child in his youth, the blond is now nothing more than another spoiled rich brat gone wild. Having recently dropped out of university the Agreste heir is lucky he's pretty or he'd have no career path to go down. With another brunette bombshell on his arm-"

"You gotta stop reading that crap man, it'll only make it worse." Nino pulled the gossip mag from his best friends hand and with all the grace never having touched a sport could offer, dumped it into the garbage where it belonged. 

"Maybe, but they aren't wrong."  
The ragging headache was proof of just how right the gossip magazine was.  
Great now gossip magazines were actually telling the truth, what kind of messed up world did Adrien drop into this morning, er well- late afternoon.

"I'm not in the mood for your moodiness Romeo, those Apple-tinis are killing the ole noggin." The Dj knocked his head for emphasis causing another ripple of pain to surge through. 

Adrien rolled his eyes, laughter falling off his tongue at his friends soured expression. He wasn't the only one who had too much last night, which reminded him of the outstanding injustice in their current conversation. 

"Oh so because you're a DJ you're allowed to get wasted, but because my father makes $1500 dollar shirts I'm not?" The indignant moan that was followed with kitten eyes usually sold the "woah is me" deal, but not with Nino.  
Nino never let the boy get away with anything and that's one of the many reasons the model loves him, even if the truth hurts. 

"Never mind dude here," Nino threw the recently discarded magazine back onto his friends stomach.  
Adrien looked up from where he was lounging as innocently as he could, but he knew exactly what was coming and yeah he deserved it.  
"Because recently, spoiled, wasted, drop out, and brat about sums you up. Are we really arguing over who deserve to get drunk on a Wednesday night? Because I got drunk on accident and you, bro I don't know where you are but it's not a good place." 

Hurt? More like a thousand knives cutting into his flesh over and over again. Yeah he could take his fathers insults, he could even read them over an article, but not from Nino. 

"I-I didn't mean it that way- it's... its just they're always on me, my father, the fans, the media, it's not fair that I'm always bashed for being a regular guy." Adrien sat up now, desperately reaching for a way out of the hole he'd dug. 

"You-you did mean it that way, man. We're not kids anymore, quit blaming your personal shit on other people. If you don't want to be called a spoiled drunk, don't get wasted off of $1000 bottle services every other night.." The man plopped himself next to the struggling blond, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He wasn't mad at Adrien, not for being spoiled or blaming others, he was mad at the fact the man couldn't see how real his problem was. 

"Okay, okay," Adrien shrugged the weight off, "I get it." 

"I don't think you do Adrien," Nino allowed himself to lean back onto his couch blowing imaginary hair from his forehead, "You going home today?" 

Home.  
The blonde wasn't sure a dimly lit mansion so cold and empty it could freeze hell over, scarce of anything remotely happy or warm with his equally as cold and distant father could ever be considered a home.  
It never felt like a home anyway.

"Yeah, I have a dinner meeting with father and Nathalie." Adrien sighed, contemplating whether it'd be better to sneak in vodka or whisky. 

If they were having juices, vodka was better, and it was the end of spring so his father would be in a fruits mood. But if they had water well whisky tasted good enough to just guzzle in the bathroom real quick. Father had gotten rid of all his alcohol months ago so Adrien would have to be creative about it. 

"It's about time, you gotta get your own place my couch can't be that comfy." Nino broke his hungover friend from his thoughts. 

"It's not, when are you gonna buy non-IKEA furniture?" Adrien rubbed his necks for all the knots that had tied themselves throughout the night. 

"Probably never," he chuckled, "or when I settle down and get married, either way man, you can't sleep on my couch forever." 

The blonde took a deep breath and blew it out the champagne from last night still prevalent in the scent.  
Ew he really needs to brush his teeth.  
Yep back to the mansion it was... unless, he could always buy himself a tooth brush from the store brush his teeth and go back to sleep.  
Sleep sounded good, better than having to face his father's disappointment yet again. He might as well just lay back down now-

"Nope, you are not going back to sleep. Stand up, go home, and face life like a man, man." Nino pushed the boy up and off the couch, standing with him as he went.

The room was spinning, oh good gods what did Nino do to him. 

"Woah Nino, be careful, I'm still fragile from last night." Adrien grabbed his head willing to nausea away and finding no reprieve. 

It was Nino's turn to roll his eyes as he stepped a few feet away into his kitchen. Meanwhile Adrien took up the new task of trying to find his phone, and maybe a less pounding head while he was at it. Damn, shouldn't he be used to to hangovers by now?  
What was the point of getting out of his head for a few hours if he woke up worse? Oh right, there was only one fix for a hangover and the blonde swore by it; get drunk again. 

There it was, the model stood up from his previous position under the couch, phone in hand and thousands of social media notifications and messages now to worry about. Maybe he should leave the IPhone 7 here and pretend like he lost it.  
And make his father more upset? Yeah right. 

"Do you need anythin-"

"Go home pretty boy." Nino called over his shoulder making sure to keep stirring his eggs in the pan.

Adrien got to the door, putting on his shirt as he went and sighed as his phone began to ring with a name he didn't want to answer to flashing at him. 

"Oh bro, by the way I have an interview after the gig tonight so find your own way home okay?" The Dj said before Adrien could close the door and answer the call that spent chills up his spine

"Got it, see you later." 

The door shut sealing his doom. It was going to be a long day and he still had to hit up "Thrist" and another liquor shop before sneaking into the mansion to try and claim back some decency before his father took it away once again. Speaking of his father, Adrien should probably answer the phone now.

All the warmth from the night before and Ninos apartment melted as Adrien put the phone to his ear, "Hello father."

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Paris was soft, soft accents, quaint people and despite the never ending stereotype of the French being rude, Marinette had only ever really dealt with a few here and there, but mostly it was just a snobby blonde in high school. Point being, there was nothing better than Paris in the spring, light fruit filled desserts being served at the bakery, fresh air, and a new crowd of tourists to make her realize once again the beauty of her home.  
It was safe to say Marinette Dupain-Cheng was content with her life. 

Which would be great... if all you wanted was to be content and well she did, but she also wanted more. What else was out there? She had to know, needed something different to happen for once in her life.  
Ugh, but how could she be so selfish? Paris was a dream destination, her parents needed her help at the bakery, and her home was here it was where she needed to be and she was living the life expected from her.  
So why did it feel so aggressively horrible?  
Was she horrible? No, wow, Alya would have given her hell for that self deprecation. Look, all she knew was that she had to do something to get out of her own head and she hoped what she chosen to do just that went well, because honestly it had too.  
She wasn't sure what she'd do if it didn't. 

The dark haired beauty continued down the street, her sheer ladybug printed ascot the only way she could figure to make her uniform of plain black t-shirt and matching jeans,white "CCP" letters aligned with her heart on her chest and the back was printed with the "Community Center of Paris'" logo and a large "VOLUNTEER" in case the clothes she was wearing didn't key people around her enough of her purpose there. 

She wasn't trying to sound obnoxious its just... its just she could design something so much cuter. But of course, an underfunded community centers last concern was fashion so Mari reminded herself to not make any comments on the boy style T-shirt killing her designer heart to anyone else. It was her first shift after all and she couldn't screw it up, not this soon in anyway. 

"Bonjour, I'm Marinette Dupain-Cheng here to volunteer."  
The front desk woman barely lifted her eyes from the stake of paper work laid out before her as she pointed a crooked finger down one of the wings, mumbling a distant, "2nd door on the right dear." 

"Thank you." Marinette breathed, rushing for absolutely no reason to the door, she was 15 minutes early she shouldn't be so nervous. 

And yet here she was alone in an ill lit break room biting her lip raw.  
All she had to do was smile and help people, it's what she loved to do anyway so it shouldn't be that hard. 

Marinette began to drum her fingers along her thighs to the beat of an imaginary songs whose tempo was as wild as nervous energy.  
Alright Mari now is the time to calm down.  
Maybe she shouldn't have let so much ride on this, maybe it was a mistake, maybe she should just go home.

"Hello my name is Tikki Thomas, I'm a director here, thank you so much for coming in Madame Dupian-Cheng."  
Or maybe she'd stay. 

"Of course, I'm very excited to work with you Madame Thomas. But please call me Marinette." 

"Only if you call me Tikki." The elder countered a glint in her eyes that matched Marinette's youth. 

"Deal." 

It took all of 30 minutes for Marinette to fall in love with all the people and the organization as a whole. Maybe it wouldn't fix everything, but at the moment all she could focus on was the fact that she was happy now. And maybe, just maybe that alone could be enough, even for just awhile. 

In fact she liked it so much she signed up to help with the AA meetings on Fridays at 9, because it's not like she had anything better to do, at least not anything that made Marinette feel this good. 

The raven haired woman looked down at her phone for the first time since her shift began three hours ago to find a text message from her best friend and Paris' own favorite article writer Alya. 

To: BakeryGirl  
From: Muckraker  
I have to Intervirew DJ Bubbler tonight at the club on Parks Ave. Wanna hold my camera bag? I have 2 Press passes! 

Marinette blew some hair from her face while she wrinkled her nose at the message. It was a Thursday! She barely liked going out on the weekend, she'd never understand why anyone would want to stay out late on a week day! Didn't they have jobs? She has to wake up at 4:30am most mornings she doesn't have time to go to some dirty, crowded, drunk people infested-  
Her phone buzzed again stopping her inner dialogue short. 

To:BakeryGirl  
From:Muckraker  
Annnddddd I heard his best friend a certain Adrien Agreste will be there. 

To:Muckraker  
From:BakeryGirl  
I'll go for an hour. Meet at yours?

If her answer had been immediate no one but Alya needed to know. It wasn't her fault that Adrien Agreste was an angel sent from heaven to bless the human race with his beauty, or that the thought of finally getting to meet her fashion idols son made her weak in the knees. No definitely not her fault. 

To:BakeryGirl  
From:Muckraker  
How'd I know that would work? See you at 9.

This was going to be interesting, for everyone.


	2. So this is what it feels like -2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a dinner meeting, a club, a broken camera, and ohh yeah Adrien makes two different cab drivers want to quit their jobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so this chapter starts something I wanna talk about super quick! I've switched the personalities a bit and you'll notice it even more in the next chapter, but in the cartoon Chat is flirty and Ladybug is confident and in control, well in this story drunk Adrien acts like Chat and Marinette acts like Ladybug around him. The reason for this is because in the cartoon the masks allow them the ability to become these powerful heroes. Here Marinette and Adrien are constantly already forced to wear that "mask" in their daily lives and be the extreme versions of themselves, so when they put on the real masks in the next chapter they get to finally be a softer less forced side of themselves. Sorry if y'all don't like the idea of them being switched, but keep in mind that even in the cartoon in and out of mask both of them are amazing people, just different sides of the same coin :) Hope that makes sense!

Adrien wasn’t already drunk, because that would be too much, even for him.  
Or well it would have been too much two years ago, but this Adrien, yeah he gave zero craps as to what his father thought, at least that's how he felt when his brain was half way to chinatown. SO yeah he already took a couple pre-dinner meeting shots in the town car.  
Sue him.  
He would be sorry in the morning, but the blonde didn’t try to think ahead too often, mostly because he didn’t see a future for himself, at least not one that made living through the piss poor present worth it.  
“Adrien”  
The boy nodded his greeting to Nathalie, a spindly type A woman whose eyes were the only tell that she wasn’t actually a robot.  
“How long do you think this will take? I have another engagement tonight.” Adrien sat down and without missing a beat popped a mint into his mouth.  
He could function fine and therefor he was fine, all his father cared about was if he could pose, pout and smile to any photographer’s desire and that’s just what he does on a daily basis. So why was he even here? It was bull.  
“Going clubbing isn’t an engagement, it's reckless.”  
If there was a sobering voice, it belonged to his father’s monotone one.  
“Hello to you too father.” The blonde pulled his napkin into his lap pretending his blood wasn’t boiling.  
“Please bring out the main course Nathalie, seeing how Adrien has no regard for anyone’s time but his own, we’ll be skipping the salad.” Gabriel waved his assistant away with a flick of his wrist.  
Adrien held in an eye roll solely because he didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction of watching him act the teenager he left behind two years ago. He wasn’t even that late, maybe he made a stop or two, or three, maybe even four? It didn’t matter because only his father would try to make him feel bad for a few minutes tardiness.  
The dining room was unnecessarily large and that included the table that seated 20 but had never sat more than 3 in all of Adrien’s life. He assumed his mother would have had dinner parties and life fill the room, but all of those possibilities had vanished with her before Adrien hit double digits. The blonde began shaking his head back and forth in awe of his own thoughts, the motion flooding his brain with a still ocean and leveling the boy back under the water, where his parents no longer tainted his brain waves.  
The silence lasted a beat too long almost as though his father enjoyed watching his own blood squirm and for all Adrien knew he did. His father had always gone the extra mile to make sure he felt small no matter the situation.  
Two minutes to walk a runway? His father was there to sigh and ask that he not put as much Adrien into his stride, “You’re not here to be an individual you’re here as one piece to the whole of my vision and I will not let you ruin that because you are my son.”.  
An important photo shoot with a beautiful woman and friendly staff for once? Gabriel was there to watch over the photographer's shoulder, the same vaguely disappointed look always on his face no matter how hard the boy tried or how much the photographer loved it, shot after shot flash after flash, not once did a smile grace the man’s lips, “This is a serious photo shoot and you’re making love eyes at the lady with big breasts. Unbelievable, if you can’t be decent at your job, at the very least be a professional Adrien.”.  
Sixteen years old and about to go on your first date with the Mayor of Paris’ daughter? The fashion icon of Paris is there clicking his tongue and shaking his head when you run downstairs in jeans and converse ready to go and nerves running wild telling you to change into something a fashion designers son would want to be seen wearing, “Be sure to wear a condom if you have sex with the girl, you’ll lose your inheritance and place in this house if you get her pregnant. We don’t need anymore mistakes here than we already have.”.  
He wasn’t warm, he wasn’t nurturing and he certainly wasn’t how a dad should be, but Adrien didn’t call him dad he called him father out of respect. Besides he’d already lost a mother, he couldn’t lose his last piece of her, even if it that piece of her was Gabriel Agreste, world famous fashion designer and coldest man alive.  
“I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here Adrien, beside the fact that you haven’t been home in 4 nights, you’ve broken our agreement. I ignore all the parties, papers, and completely foolish behavior as long a you, like a proper adult, get your work done-”  
“Which I have.” the boy cut in, taking a breath of fresh air as his father forced him to surface once again.  
Gabriel Agreste looked less than impressed at his son’s interruption, not that he had ever looked impressed with him in the first place.  
“You missed your photoshoot Monday morning and the other on Tuesday in the evening and an Interview Wednesday afternoon, and that’s just this week, you’ve been late and or missed multiple other jobs the past 4 months, I’ve been more than fair Adrien, but I draw the line here.”  
Suddenly the model’s ocean was stuck in December, numbing his brain further and creating a distance from the man who at one point in time knew how to swim.  
That was the final straw, Adrien may be a little tipsy, but he wasn’t dumb. He had gone to every last stupid job and obligation his father set up for him. Nathalie and the never ending schedule reminders on his phone made sure of that.  
But of course, of freaking course, that wasn’t good enough for father, no Adrien needed to do more, be better, get more jobs, smile more in interviews, smile less in during shoots, be the exact opposite of how he felt on inside on the outside, because God forbid anyone ever know just how messed up their family was.  
And their family was more than messed up, that the blonde was sure of.  
Without realizing it, the boy was standing up, both hands slamming the table to emphasize his anger, or maybe to keep him from falling, why was the room spinning?  
Shaking his head again he found stability in the whirlpools surrounding him.  
“That’s a lie and you know it Father. I will not stay here and listen to you insult me anymore!” Adrien pointed a long finger in his father’s direction.  
Yeah that felt good, Adrien from a few months ago would never have had the guts to stand up to Gabriel Agreste like that. The model took his father’s stunned silence as permission to leave, and without another word he walked right out of the mansion, the world at the his finger tips once again.  
“Hey taxi man take to the club!”  
The cabi was on 4 hours of sleep with 6 more hours in his shift, he most certainly did not get paid enough to deal with drunk kids as often as the job demanded.  
“Which one Monsieur?”  
“The Jungle Cat my good taxi man, Jungle Cat.” the boy opened his mouth, seeming like he was about to say more, but remained silent.  
The taxi driver rolled his eyes before turning back on the main road onto the thriving Paris night scene.  
He really needed to find a new job. 

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

"Alya!" Marinette squeezed in and out and between people in order to keep up with her best friend, who was weaving through the crowd with practiced skill.  
Where Alya was good at getting her way and getting to the front of things in order to get the best pictures and stories for her articles and blog, Marinette, small as she may be, was not built for pushing strangers and or the annoyed stares and murmurs that's followed said action. That being said, in order to not lose her best friend she had to, so the raven haired girl mumbled as many unnecessary apologizes as she could and managed to find the writer near the front of stage.  
"Alya, you gotta slow down, I can't go as fast as you when I'm carrying 10 pounds of camera equipment!" Mari laughed, but her voice was as serious as the ache beginning in her right shoulder.  
She wasn't lying when she said the camera bag was heavy.  
"Want me to take it? Sorry, I just didn't want the bouncer to question your press pass like they did last time!" Alya made a move to take the bag from Marinette, but the was quickly stopped.  
"It's fine A," she easily switched the strap from her right shoulder to her left and over her body to help ease the pain, "I should carry my weight. Plus I want to help you, without the bulky bag you can get better pictures, no?" It's was the twinkle of genuine desire to be a generous human being that forced a pang of love for her bestie to flutter into Alya's heart.  
"Thanks girl, you're too good to me." Her tone was playful, but it was the truth and to be honest she was terrified one day Mari would figure it out.  
Marinette was too good for most people, even her own parents didn't deserve the girl who too quickly puts others over herself. Not that there's anything wrong with caring about others, it's just Mari took it to the extreme, even if sometimes it doesn't work out and she makes a situation worse; like the time she helped accidently break Alix’s family heirloom watch in high school, although technically it was more Alya and Chloe’s fault, Marinette went to all the trouble to fix it for Alix,because no matter what the problem she’s always just trying to help. She wore her heart on her sleeve, but her real emotions seemed to be locked in a vault that not even Alya had been given the code too. All she knew was that Mari gets hurts easier then she leads on and no matter how big her smile, there was something eating away at the wannabe fashion designer and Alya was scared at what would happen when nothing was left of her best friend. She'd do anything to protect Marinette, if only she knew what she needed to protect the girl from. But she didn’t, so she did the next best thing, be there for her no matter what, whenever the girl called Alya was there.  
The music began and with a cliche smoke screen the Dj appeared ready to start his set. Marinette would be lying if she said she didn’t see her bestie lean in as Dj Bubbler’s face came into focus, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t know why. It was obvious not only was the Dj hot, but he was Alya’s type almost to a T. All he had to do was be charming enough in their after set interview and maybe for once and for all Alya would be a tied down woman. Not that she needed to be tied down, but Mari just wanted her misfortune with guys to end, she was sick of seeing her hurt and reject possible love before it began to creep into her heart. Ayla may say she’s over relationships, but by the way she was drooling over the man pumping one fist in the air as the other twisted the music into an electronic beat, maybe not anymore.  
“Hand me the prime lense please.” The red head’s voice sounded far off but just like how Mari knew which lens a prime one was without ever having taken photography lessons, she knew that Alya’s far off voice just meant was in the zone and about to capture something ten times more beautiful then anyone could ever dream of.  
Alya had a talent for capturing the certain part of a scene that won’t normally get the everyday person’s attention, and due to that quality and style she was becoming more and more known as an artist and writer. One day she’d be the best in the business Marinette could just feel it.  
The next emotion the baker felt was jealousy, which didn’t sit well in her gut. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy, why couldn’t she just be grateful for once in her life?  
But she just wished that like Alya, she had gotten the chance to go off and refine the skill that made her voice a million miles away, that made her feel like the world was her own, and truly made her happy.  
Whatever it wasn’t important, what was important was family and it didn’t matter that Marinette was a fashion college dropout, or that she didn’t get to accept the Agreste scholarship she’d been awarded. Not anymore.  
It didn’t matter because she lived in the beautiful city of Paris and she had two loving parents and great friends, and-and her volunteer work. Yes she had plenty to look forward to and be happy about so she just needed to shut her brain up and let go. Just like how the people in the crowd seemed to be able to do.  
Her eyes grazed the club goers behind her, wondering how they could move with such lack of talent and still not seem to care. Maybe she needed a drink, but just as she was about to tell Alya her about her plan to take a trip to the bar she saw something, or rather someone that caught her eye.  
The man was soaked in lights, the crowd jumping in time with him to create waves of endless motion, his body dripping with the sea’s spray, and suddenly Marinette was drowning in everything that was him and the music. It seemed to go on for hours, and in all honestly it might have, she didn't know. Song after song she found herself drawn into his every beat, only detaching herself when Alya needed her to do or give her something.  
Years passed in nightlife and without warning the lights went up, a gentle hue of fluorescence surrounded them as a whole instead of dancing color. The moment was over and with the dying sound the raven haired girl seemed to take a breath of air along with the others in the club who’d previously been underwater.  
She looked back to see if she could meet the man’s eyes who’d been her mermaid seducing her to dive in, but he was nowhere to be seen. The nagging feeling of familiarity ate at her. Where had she seen the mermaid- er well merman before?  
“Here Marinette, I’m gonna go get a close up of his equipment on the stage real quick!” Alya switched the prime lense for the standard that still sat in Mari’s hand and climbed the stage.  
“O-”, the girl turned to go follow the redhead when something crashed into her, “kay!”  
She was falling and worse than the bruises that would appear on her knees in the next couple hours, the nearly thousand dollar camera lense was falling too.  
Alya might be an up and coming journalist extraordinaire and Marinette the daughter and worker to her parents successful bakery, but neither one had an extra thousand dollars lying around.  
Marinette doubted whatever drunk idiot had bumped into her had enough money to cover the damage either. Well, she guessed she’d just have to walk a lot of loyal bakery customers’ dogs again, or she could always babysit, maybe even clean Monsieur Lu-  
“I’m so sorry about that! Here let me help you up.” A hand reached down to pull the despairing girl off the disgusting floor.  
“Thanks.” Marinette sniffled quietly, keeping her eyes focused on the completely shattered piece of equipment she was meant to carry and NOT destroy.  
The girl was not about to cry, no she was a grown ass woman and grown ass woman do not cry in clubs because dumb ass strangers bump into them and break a thousand dollars worth of camera equipment. Nope they don’t do that at all. They keep a level head, they find the solution to the problem and they suck it up just like they’ve done all their lives when faced with disappoint… Don’t they?  
“Oh my goodness, I didn’t even notice. Did I do that beautiful?” Marinette recognized the voice before she even looked up.  
She must have been in too much inner turmoil before to put two and two together, but as she looked up to be sure and damn was she sure, she figured out that the merman from before had been none other than THE Adrien Agreste, son to the most famous fashion designer to grace Paris in the past thirty years, Gabriel Agreste, he was the man who broke Alya’s lense.  
“Y-yes.” Marinette was lucky she was even able to squeeze that out of her mouth, because time felt frozen and holy cow, was this what it was like being in the presence of an angel?  
“Crap, here don’t cry, woah you're eyes are so blue it's like ahhh-” The man’s dazzling green eyes searched desperately for a fix, finally finding it in his Gucci trackie’s pocket, “here, please stop, this is my assistant’s card, call her she’ll pay for the lense. Sorry here.” Mistaking the woman’s lack of words as sadness, rather than her being star struck, he grabbed her hand forcing the card into it before walking away as fast as possible to avoid any further conflict.  
The last thing he needed to happen that night was a photo of him and a crying woman to be on the front page of the rags the next morning.  
Marinette couldn’t focus on anything else but the heat in her hand and the feeling of card stock. She had Adrien Agreste’s phone number in her hand, or well at least she had his assistants card in her hand. But they were kinda the same thing weren’t they? At the very least Adrien Agreste had touched her and called her beautiful and that, that was enough to send the girl straight to cloud nine, broken camera lense long forgotten back down on earth.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

“Adrien dude, how are liking the set so far?” Nino asked spread out on the couch in his dressing room.  
“S’great dude.” Adrien smiled dreamily as he let his body fall next to his best friend’s.  
He reeked of sweaty crowds and liquor, and if that wasn't a dead give away the slight slur dancing in his tone and the hickey just put the nail in the coffin.  
“Adrien, man seriously you're already drunk? It's only eleven o’clock.” The Dj looked around trying to make sure no one heard what he was going to say next, when he was sure the coast was clear he continued, the blonde still lazily staring at him with a clown's grin, “I've been trying to tell you, you need help and this just proves my point! Did you even go home?”  
Didn't Adrien already got scolded today? Did he never leave the mansion? No, because he was with Nino and Nino never wanted to come over, not after Father threatened his Dj career the first time he'd brought a drunk Adrien home. It's a good thing he didn't have to deal with that anymore. The blonde laughed to himself, he hadn't gotten drunk in ages, maybe he should have a little extra fun tonight.  
“Adrien!” Nino practically yelled to get the boys attention.  
Adrien was fucked up, Nino understood that much. It wasn't abnormal for people to be all over him at the club, he was like a golden sex idol to most the women and admittedly even some men, point being everyone wanted a taste. The real Adrien hated it, hated the spotlight and especially hated to be touched without being the first to initiate contact.  
But drunk Adrien, drunk Adrien let his body belong to the crowd and those vulture ate him alive until every last piece of him looked thoroughly ravished. He says he enjoys it, but Nino knew better. He knew it was just a punishment for both himself and his dick of an old man. What else do you expect from a boy who's had to sell himself his entire life? His body and mind had never belonged to himself anyway, what did it matter if he let a few strangers use him for pleasure. It made Nino sick to his stomach. If Adrien wasn't being used by his father, his emotions were being buried behind fake smiles and interviews, everyone needed something from him, even his so called “friends”.  
That's why Nino and him were so close, because Nino was the first person to give Adrien anything, and the first person to not expect anything in return.  
“Sorry, I was just thinking about that song you spun, the one that goes, I can't stop duh duh duh duhhhh dun duh duh dunnnn, I liked it. What's it called?” The blonde managed another charismatic grin that would convince anyone of his honesty, but Nino was done with this shit.  
He’d known it was a problem, hell he knew months ago that it wouldn't end well, but he'd just hoped that maybe Adrien could have stopped it himself.  
It was too late for that now though, he'd watched his best friend slip through his fingertips long enough, he had to catch him before he hit rock bottom.  
“ADRIEN!” Nino stood up, not caring who heard or saw him anymore.  
“Dude what?” Adrien rolled his eyes, leaning his head back on the cushion.  
What was up Nino’s butt tonight?  
“Dude where the hell are you right now?” He allowed his voice to lower, but the passion didn't waver for a second.  
“Backstage at your biggest show yet! Shouldn't we be celebrating and not being all blah blah sad, mad, ew?” Somehow Adrien found a way to thrust his head further into the back of the couch, the same way a child who was exasperated would.  
“No, we shouldn't, because even though this should be the best night of my life so far, I can't enjoy it. Do you know why?” The Dj readjusted his baseball hat in frustration.  
Part of him knew he couldn't get through to Adrien when he was like this, but the other part of him didn't have a clue what he was doing, so he just kept saying what he felt.  
“Because you haven't gotten laid-”  
“What? Dude no. I can't enjoy tonight, because I'm too worried about your drunk ass and how I'm going to get you home and keep you away from the journalist whose interviewing me after this set at the same time! I'm worried someone is going to take advantage of you again, or what those nasty rags will say next, and above all that, I'm terrified that I'll never see my best friend ever again!” The man was back sitting next to his friend, trying to get some recognition out of him, one little spark of understanding at least, Adrien had to know this wasn't okay, that he wasn't okay.  
“You worry about a lot of stuff dude, maybe you should try taking a shot to calm you down before you get back out there. I mean, Nino come on my man, I'm right here and I'm not even drunk. Why are you scared you won't see me again, you're making such little sense you're actually giving me a headache dude.” The blonde pinched his nose to try and ease the oncoming pain of using his brain too much. The magazine that morning was right, it's a good thing he's pretty, because college and thinking certainly weren’t his things.  
Nino shook his head completely dumbfounded by what he just heard, Adrien had no clue did he? Did he even know he was drunk, he just said he wasn't, but there was no way… the DJ looked down at his watch, only 10 more minutes until he had to get back on the stage.  
He'd have to make this quick.  
“Adrien you're drunk and you have a problem, tell me that you can feel it?” The man was practically begging at this point.  
Hey wait, why did Nino have tears in his eyes, what happened?  
Adrien leaned forward to pat his bud’s head and flash him, what he believed to be, a reassuring smile, “Hey you're my best bud you know that? Don't be sad.”  
Nino gave the drunkard a weak smile and held back the tears even he didn't realize were coming, “You're my best bud too, which is why I have to go do something okay?”  
“Alright bud. See you later.” Adrien waved the man away and let himself close his eyes, wow when did he get so tired?  
“Adrien Agreste?” A gruff sound broke his tranquility  
“That's my name, what's up?” He didn't bother opening his eyes, that is until rough hands he assumed matched the gruff voice forcibly pulled him up and off the comfortable couch.  
“What do you think you're doing?” The model tried to pull away from the harsh grip on his arm, but his trainer had only trained his body to look perfect, leanness over muscles meant the steroid abusing monster didn't budge, disputed his best efforts. Damn model physique.  
“We had a complaint about you from a special guest and we're going to have to ask that you leave the club immediately.” The man answered face as expressionless as Adrien's during that one vampire shoot he had to do back when Twilight was still a thing.  
Maybe the man could give him lessons on how to be an emotionless robot, then maybe his Father would at least nod approvingly at him sometimes, the way he did Nathalie.  
“That's ridiculous, do you know who I am?” Adrien spat, regardless of how much he disliked using the fame card.  
“Fashion model, daddy's boy, and Paris’ favorite drunken mess. I'm not dumb babe, I'm just doing my job, now let's not make a scene for the paps alright? I'm gonna let you go here,” he stopped at the backstage exit and let go of the boy's arm, “and you're going to leave like nothing's happened, get a taxi and go home alright?”  
Adrien nodded, but only because the man's voice went soft and seemed caring, Adrien would do pretty much whatever someone wanted, as long as they were nice about it.  
“Okay.”  
And that's exactly what happened, luckily the paparazzi weren’t there yet. Adrien was known for leaving the clubs right at closing, seeing as that's normally when Nino would leave too. Not tonight though, he wondered who’d complained.  
It was probably just Chloe pulling a prank or trying to get in his pants again. He wouldn’t be surprised at all to see her hot pink limo waiting for him out front, it’s not like it would be bad thing. Chloe may be manipulative, but deep down he knew she cared, that and dispute his better judgement, he did enjoy staying the night with her.  
Adrien wasn't sure how he did it, but somehow to blonde managed to get all the way to the front of the club and not seeing a Chloe or her obnoxious limo in sight, hailed a cab so he could go back to the mansion, where at least he had a nice soft bed to crash into.  
“Where to?”  
This time the cab driver was a younger man who didn’t seem quite as cranky as the one he’d had before.  
“23- Ouch!” With the help of his cat like depth perception and blonde hair, Adrien managed to smack himself in the head while trying to get into the yellow cab, somehow landing his butt on the cement rather than the car’s seat.  
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” He heard the cry of an angel, was even touched by her, as he was set back onto his feet.  
“Ah… Mr. Agreste?”  
Wait, was he at a photoshoot? No the lighting was too crappy. His eyes focused again, and right beautiful girl, big blue eyes, charm, you got this Adrien.  
“You can call me Adrien, blue eyes, or maybe instead tonight you could call me yours.” He purred.  
The woman giggled and the blonde knew he’d won.  
“Alright Adrien, I think you hit your head pretty hard, do you know where you live so you can tell the driver?” Her tone changed from amused to concerned as quickly as the two a.m. lights hit most clubs.  
“Yeah um 23- ummm 23... “ Adrien paused trying to think harder, when that failed he hoped his charm could fix the situation, “Do you know where I live beautiful?”  
His head hurt so maybe his date could just get them back to his place, or maybe even her place, her place would be better considering she probably didn’t live with either of her parents. Before he could ask, he was stopped by her look of concentration on her phone, she noticed his attention and blushed slightly, “I’m trying to google it.”.  
Marinette’s heart fluttered as she hastily typed away, scrolling passed fanfiction and other crazies, until she found an address that started with 23 and crossed her fingers it was correct.  
“23 Place du Châtelet please” Mari showed the driver the address, neither of them at all surprised he lived in the 4ème by the Eiffel Tower.  
She helped the dopey model into the door and just as she was about to close it, a hand caught her arm.  
“Aren’t you coming beautiful?”  
How the hell was the raven haired girl supposed to say no to that?  
“Okay.”  
And that’s the story of how Marinette, a bakery worker, wound up in the back of a taxi with Adrien Agreste, fashion model and God’s very own gift to the Earth.  
“Go ahead and do whatever.” Adrien breathed, voice an octave lower and light years away.  
Not only did Mari squeak and go as red as a tomato, Adrien had forced the second cab driver of the day to question his willingness to stay in the business.  
“Adrien! Put your shirt back on! Seriously?” Marinette found it on the floor board and threw it back to him.  
And when she looked back up at his completely toned chest naked before her, she didn’t feel how she thought she would. By all means she was attracted to him, but at the moment, all the fantasy of how she’d feel if this ever happened to her left her psyche.  
“Why? I’m hot, don’t you want to kiss me?” He mumbled the world getting fuzzier by the minute.  
“No- I mean yes, but not right now, Adrien I think we should take you to a hospital.” Concern over took all the other emotions, including the one that still kinda wanted to kiss him.  
Besides he didn’t mean any of this, the poor guy had hit his head too hard and Marinette wasn't some type creep who took advantage of other people’s pain for her own gain.  
“Nah princess, I’m fine. I think I just need some sleep actually.”  
So she didn’t want to start their little game in his town car, sure it was a first, but the pretty lady was nice to let him take a nap, he’d need all his strength for later anyways.  
“This. Can’t. Be. Happening! No, you can’t go to sleep if you have a concussion. You need to keep your eyes open for me okay?” The girl had no grasp on what went over her, but she reached over his slumped body, ignoring when her arm accidentally made contact with his bare chest and forced open his shining green orbs.  
“I’ll stay awake if you kiss me.” Adrien stated, noting how soft and warm her arm felt across his chest, puckering his lips because who could ever say no to-  
“Not gonna happen pretty boy, I’m not messing around. If you sleep now you could die and I will not have that on my hands, not tonight.”  
Well he guessed she could say no to him, which would be another first, who the hell was pretty blue eyes again? Even in the confines of his static memory he didn’t recall her ever giving him a name to match the face.  
“What’s your name m’lady?” He flashed a wide smile at her, eyes open but barely.  
“Mari- oh look we’re here. Let’s get you inside okay?” She opened her door and motioned for him to follow.  
Were they finally going to have sex now? As he stood, he was hit with a tidal wave of nausea, staggering he fell into the girl for the second time that night, luckily this time in place of falling over, she was able to keep them both up. Maybe tonight wasn’t the best night for sex, he felt too… ew.  
“Okay here’s the door, be sure to tell your dad that you hit your head,” If he couldn’t tell already from the growing bump and small amount of dried blood she’d failed to see in the lower lighting they’d been in, “I gotta go, but it was nice meeting you Adrien.”  
She gave him a side hug, watching as he rung the doorbell before running back to the taxi, not daring to look back.  
She doubted Gabriel Agrest would recognize her, not after an entire year. She doubted he even remembered the quick meeting and handshake that was supposed to seal her future as a world famous fashion designer, but on the off chance he did, well she just didn’t want to have to face looking everything she’d ever dreamed of in the eyes again, only to know she could never have it.  
It hurt enough to first time.  
She saw Adrien’s silhouette disappear into the mansion and with that good deed accomplished, she gave the driver her address.  
“Thank you, sorry about the ride.” Marinette gave a slight chuckle to the driver hoping it’d be enough to wipe the annoyed look off his face.  
It wasn’t but at least she tried.  
After paying the fare for both her and Adrien and tipping as generously as a broke girl could, she walked into the bakery part of her house, seeing how even through the pulled curtains the lights still caused a halo from the inside onto the street. She wasn’t sure which of her parents was still up at eleven at night, but both of them knew better than to over extend themselves, not when all of them had to be up at four a.m. to begin baking for the new day.  
“Mama you should be in bed!”  
Mari wasn’t surprised to find her mom still sweeping the floors of their bakery, she got her good will and work ethic from her after all. That didn’t change the fact that her mother was now in her late fifties and an out patient with leukemia, more specifically Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia or CLL, they were still technically just in the “watch and wait” period of treatment, but it still caused issues, and her mother hadn’t been able to do as much since.  
“I couldn’t sleep Marinette, but I’m fine. I’m just doing a little extra cleaning so you don’t have to do it in the morning.” The hum of her voice was soft forcing Mari’s eyes to want to close.  
She stopped herself, the more stress her mom put on her body, the more likely the leukemia would be to spread and go from being a small issue to a life threatening problem. Dispute the regular check ups and phone calls with doctors, Sabrine’s condition could go from bad to worse at any moment, no one had any real way of knowing and that’s one of the biggest reasons why Marinette couldn’t be hours away at some fashion school, or across the world interning for other labels, she needed to be home and help her family. If she didn’t spend every moment she could with her mom before-if anything happened to her, well Mari wouldn't be able to live with herself.  
“Here, I can do it. You should go to bed before you start making me worry.” the girl pouted at her mother, knowing guilt worked the best on her gentle soul, taking the broom in her hands she muttered, “Maybe I shouldn’t go out anymore, I have to make sure you don’t over work yourself here mama.”  
“Hush qiānjīn, you should be able to go out without having to worry about me. I’m fine I know how much is too much. I may be sick, but that doesn’t mean you should quit letting me take care of you.” Her eye’s were heavy with sadness.  
She wished her daughter didn’t believe the world was so cold, or that her own mama couldn’t take care of herself. What do you do when a person is only an optimist on the outside, but on the inside you know pessimism devours them?  
She felt a light kiss to her cheek and small shove towards the upper house portion of their building. Her sweet girl was too good for her, that Sabine knew, a gift sent from heaven to her and Tom.  
“I love you mama. Night.”  
The woman’s laugh was like tiny bells on a children’s bike. The noise being one of Marinette’s favorite sounds, she let it envelop her along with her’s mother’s hug and watched as she went into her bedroom after a return of love was given.  
The raven haired girl picked up sweeping where her mama left off, deciding it would be better to just finish it now and sleep an extra few minutes in the morning. It’s not like sleep would come soon to her anyway, she had too much to think about.  
She had to call Alya and apologize again for breaking the lense, although Alya insisted it was okay, Marinette could see the look of sheer panic in the woman’s eyes when she told her. Then she had to call Adrien’s assistant to get a new one, because as much as she wished she didn’t want to be that person, she kinda had no other choice. Alya didn’t say it, but she had another important interview and photoshoot with a big celebrity on Monday and Mari wanted her to have the camera lense by then, dispute the redhead claiming she wouldn't really need that specific lense for anything soon. The whole being a taxi with a concussion loppy model, she’d have to ask his assistant how he was doing. Marinette also had a full 9 hour shift at the bakery and to top it all off she’d volunteered to help out with the Alcoholic's Anonymous meeting at the Center.  
The AA meeting was actually the only part she was looking forward too, apparently they did it in a different way, because many people were still too embarrassed, even though AA was anonymous to anyone not in the meetings, everyone including the workers and volunteers wore masks until they felt comfortable with admitting their addiction with their sponsor. By the end of the program all the masks are supposed to be off and everyone able to support each other, both in and out of the center, but until then, it helped promote more people to come. The thought of getting to wear a mask and help other’s really excited the girl, because maybe just maybe she’d be able to really help someone, really change their life for the better and maybe through that person, Marinette could find a purpose in living a life without her dreams and be the superhero she’d always needed to someone more deserving.  
Maybe, just maybe something miraculous would happen in her life and it’d solve everything.  
That’d be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a side note, I don't know anyone who has CLL so I'm getting all my facts from the internet, if I've used incorrect terms or said something about that isn't accurate please message me so I can change it :) Hope you guys liked this chapter, and before anyone says anything I know Adrien says the wrong thing sometimes, he's meant to, like when he thinks he's in his town car instead of a taxi, I'm just showing how messed up he is in the head! Don't fear though sober Adrien aka Chat Noir will make an appearance soon along with the explanation of why Adrien doesn't think he's drunk!  
> Loads of love  
> -Bou

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :) Comment below so we can talk, have any ideas of what Adrien's dinner meeting will be like? Do you like it? Will it be love at first sight for Marinette and Adrien or will they even meet at all? Tune in next week, because I hope to update semi-regularly on Sundays!  
> -Bou :)


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